Yankee

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World of Light

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Level: 9 - Total EXP: 196/90 ------ Level: 7 - Total EXP: 151/70
𝙱𝙿 ●●●●● ---------------------------- 𝙱𝙿 ●●●●●
Word Count: 4639 (+5 exp)
Location: The Under

Coming down from the high of overflowing mana and BP left both Primrose and Therion feeling more tuckered out than usual after a battle. Magic was almost like a muscle to be flexed, and the constant use of their spells and abilities gave that muscle a good workout. When the Wonder Effect came to an end the Orsterrans let out near simultaneous sighs. More used to flexing her spellwork, Primrose recovered sooner, though she still left everything about looting the Caretaker and the various spirits around the area to the rest of the group. And while normally Therion would be very curious about what was so valuable inside the metal pyramid that was worth a risk like that, he couldn't drag himself over to it. He leaned on the metal arm of the Caretaker until it started fading to ash, at which point he shed his ceremonial robes temporarily to cool down faster. He tried not to groan when Stetson said they'd have to go through yet another gauntlet of bugs.

Since that seemed to be the only way forward, Primrose and Therion readied themselves to go. The latter of them was caught quite off guard when Tingyun approached him.

"Oh. Uh." Therion's face was tinted pink, and he was at a loss for words. He wasn't used to being thanked, much less like that. He blinked at Tingyun, then averted his gaze. When she turned away he gingerly touched the spot she'd kissed. "...don't mention it."

The ensuing fight wasn't quite as bad as the previous ones before it, but it was by no means easy. Thankfully everyone got through it and arrived at their transportation. Honestly it came as no surprise that it wasn't large enough to fit everyone inside. The Seekers had a lot of members, some of them much larger than your standard human. The Travelers didn't have that issue however, so they scooted inside while the others figured out how they'd handle it. Primrose offered a wave to Kanna just before the door closed.

The drop pod brought them straight up the cavern shaft, and though the ride was a little rocky at points it seemed alright. The Seekers didn't make it all the way to the surface, seeing as they had unfinished business below ground. They departed the safety of the drop pod after bidding a quick goodbye to Tingyun and the dwarves, and immediately they found themselves in the place they'd been looking for. Mercy Dreams, where reality blended together with the dream realm.

It was ominous from the get go, more than the Basement or the Necrodancer's crypt. A dark, eerie prison sunk miles below the surface of the earth...

"Can it be my turn to sit this one out?" Therion said, crossing his arms beneath his poncho.

The entire complex was stone and iron, lit by candles or torchlight. It looked old but sturdy, solidly built to house prisoners for a long, long time. With the age of the place came disrepair, but the prison was obviously still in use. There were noises coming up from the space in the center of the room where the prison continued down, footsteps, whispers, clanging, and all kinds of other activity. Here on the uppermost level there were no signs of life besides the Seekers and some flitting moths, that turned out not to be moths after all.

They hadn't been there all that long when a voice called out to one of their group.

Primrose approached the railing where Ms. Fortune was scanning the area below, a little surprised to hear that someone the Feral knew was locked up in this place. Of course it wasn't the first time the Seekers had come across a friend from their original worlds, and most likely would not be the last. If possible, Primrose wanted to make sure such reunions were happy ones.

"A friend?" The dancer asked. "What does she look like? We can help search for her."

Though a little distracted at first as she listened intently, Nadia turned toward Primrose in a hurry when she processed the offer, a grateful smile on her face. "Sure, sure, yeah. She's a Dagonian...uh, sorry, a fish girl. Pretty human, except she's got light blue skin. Bright pink pupils, dark blue hair and...yellow fins." After realizing something, she reached around and grabbed her ponytail. "Long in the back, like this." With an agitated sigh, she turned and glanced back down into the depths of Mercy Dreams. Right now, the unflappable feral was looking a little flustered. "Thanks in advance."

The dancer nodded. It was no trouble, just another something to watch out for as they explored. In short order the Seekers split up from one another. Therion accompanied Primrose as she descended the nearby stairwell deeper into the prison after Ms. Fortune, and then went a separate way.

So far all they'd seen were cells. Cells and little parchment moths, which they didn't pay much attention to other than snagging a couple that flew too close. The contents of each were all similar to what Nadia had read out to them earlier. As for the cells, some had bars and slats that they could barely see through, but the things inside of them were less than human. The cells with no way to see inside were the ones that they could hear speech from, mumbling and rambling voices that suggested whoever was in them were at least a little more awake or aware than their twisted neighbors. No sign of a friendly face, a boss, or a secret dream weapon yet.

"I'd guess that whatever it is we're looking for is on the bottom floor."

"Most certainly."

The two of them peered over the railing, finding the that even in the dreary dim lighting they could see quite a ways down. Like many of the other Seekers they deemed that jumping straight to the bottom, while being the fastest route, would be inviting too much danger. They could see all kinds of patrolling monsters acting as prison guards, and if they were spotted in mid air they'd be sitting ducks, having to contend with all of them plus the hulking monstrosities on the lowest level.

"Maybe a jail break would help. Release a bunch of prisoners, let them fight it out with the guards, then we head right down."

Primrose looked at the nearest cell to them where on of the mutants was heaving, blinking its large eyes independently of each other. "...I'm not sure how useful these would be. And it may take a while to unlock a lot of cells."

"Nah, since they're all the same kind of lock once I figure it out the first time, the rest will be quick."

Therion approached one of the cell doors, one that was closed off with no way to tell what was behind it. He heard a faint scratching noise. Up close, he could see that there were two locks, one of silver and one of... copper? Bronze? He rubbed the rusty lock, ridding it of some of the green oxidation that had formed. It was bronze. It also looked like the insides were too rusted to actually work. He turned his attention to the silver lock and popped his lockpicking tools inside. Right away he could feel the resistance. The pins were heavy as hell!

"What the..." he murmured to himself, eyebrows creasing. Was this actually silver? He pressed in, trying to force the pick through. It couldn't find any purchase, so after a few minutes of trying Therion gave up and tried the bronze lock instead. This one didn't have the same problem, so it should be possible to pick - but the oxidation came with its own issues. Cracked pieces of the lock itself settled inside the keyhole, disrupting the entire mechanism. Therion pushed some of these pieces out of the way with his tool, or tried to, but when they got lodged inside the small space they snapped his lock pick a third of the way down, and now that was stuck in there too.

"Ugh. Okay maybe this won't work. I could get one of these open with time, but..."

"Time isn't something we have a lot of."

The thief turned to see what she was talking about. She stood slightly in front of him, facing a couple of advancing jailers. One ran towards them on the ground, waving a pair of cat o' nine tails over his gray clothed head. He wore pauldrons, arm and shin guards over his bare skin with the same kind gray fabric wrapped around his waist. A little slower behind was an old man dressed in churchly attire sitting in a floating cathedra. In his hand was a long spear, and he raised in preparation to stab down at the intruders.

The Travelers met them halfway. Primrose struck first, stabbing her ice lance into the space between the flagellant's breast and shoulder. The man, if it could be called that, did not recoil. He seemed to relish the pain and pressed forward, nearly skewering himself as he snapped the multi-tailed whip Primrose. Right behind her, Therion darted out and let the whip wrap around one of his knives instead of his friend's skin. He had a proper dagger in his other hand and carved it over the flagellant's chest and bicep. He circled the guard and shoved him in deeper on Primrose's spear.

The spear of the bishop came down on the thief, nearly piercing Therion's brain if he hadn't moved out of the way in time. The spear's blade made a shallow cut down his scalp and the side of his face. The bishop was much faster at attacking than he appeared to be. Therion fended off another thrust, deflecting it with his dagger. He retreated to put some distance between himself and the enemy, liberally peppering the man with daggers and darts. Thankfully the floating spear wielder was not as quick at evading as he was at stabbing.

With a grunt Primrose hefted the flagellant impaled on the end of her lance up and over her shoulder, slamming him into the ground. She yanked her weapon out of him and turned on the bishop, parrying his polearm strike with her own. Several knives were sticking out of his chest, but the old man was still holding on to life. He attacked Primrose relentlessly and she twirled her weapon to block whatever he threw at her. She retaliated the first chance she got, lance catching the bishop's leg and tearing it open as he veered to move out of the way. From the corner of her eye Primrose saw the flagellant was getting to his feet, so she whirled around in an elegant spin to slash him across the middle and then come back to face the bishop once more. She launched herself forward, knocking the opposing spear out of the way and getting a clean hit through the bishop's chest. He sagged down in the seat, and the cathedra sank to the ground before they faded away.

Having been about to backstab the flagellant, Therion was instead met with the man stumbled back towards him. The thief didn't really mind if Primrose wanted both enemies to herself, but would it kill her to at least let him know so he didn't have to change his strategy on the fly? Therion side stepped the flagellant, and with bronllavyn and the stinging dagger in each hand he sliced up the unarmored parts of the guard. The flagellant was made of tough stuff though, and he charged Therion with his whips flailing.

Rather than attempt another physical attack to no avail, Therion hopped back and stuck his arm out, summoning the Wildfire to his hand. The flames burst out in one explosive puff, much larger than the thief intended. His eyes widened in surprise and he drew his arm back, shaking his hand to rid it of the smoldering ash that the flagellant had been reduced to.

With the fight over they fled away from the site of battle, thinking that the spark of flames might draw more guards to the area. When they were far enough away and didn't have any pursuers, Primrose and Therion relaxed slightly. The latter stowed his daggers away again while the former set the butt of her lance down with a thunk, leaning against it. The shaft was nearly as tall as she was, the entire weapon taller still, making it a good support. She smiled, casting a glance at Therion.

"I'm getting good at this."

Primrose Level Up

New Strength: Rosaria's Shadow Samaritan. Due to the spirit she fused with, Primrose has gained the knowledge of how to properly master a polearm. She is now an adept wielder of polearm type weaponry. When using a polearm her critical hit rate is increased after using Ravaging Confession, and nearby party members' critical hit rate is increased after using Rites of Termination.
***

"You'd make Olberic and Tressa proud," he commented offhandedly, teasing a friend.

"You think so too?" she replied, meeting him in turn.

Though it was clear Therion had been joking, Primrose's thoughts lingered on their missing friends. She could imagine the pleasant surprise on Olberic's face if she held her own in a spar against him, lance versus spear. Tressa's excited giggles as she requested to join in. It might have been the nature of Mercy Dreams, but the imagined scene unfolded so clearly before her. She and the group's two polearm users sweating by a river side. Ophelia and Alfyn washing their dinner pans from the night before in the water, a basket of linen beside them, the young cleric laughing at some tale Alfyn was telling her. H'aanit stroking Linde's fur as the leopard enjoyed the sunshine, the both of them watching the spar with interest while professor Cyrus packed up the last of his supplies, chatting away to a thief who'd been gradually picking up on the academic jargon he was wont to use.

"I hope they're all alright," she said, melancholic in a way that had become uncharacteristic of her lately. Therion just shook his head.

"What's the use of thinking about it? There's no way to know unless we find them. And if we do find them then they have to start dealing with all this crazy shit too." His words implied he didn't want to endanger the other travelers, which made Primrose smile.

"You don't ever worry about them though? Since waking up?" she asked. When she'd been purged of Galeem's light in Smash City Alcamoth, the well being of her friends was one of the first things that came to mind, right behind confusion and... hurt, and familiar blood chilling anger. She recalled leaving a message for any of them that happened to find that place while she left with the Seekers. She had just assumed that Therion felt the same way, and patiently waited for his answer after it was clear he was reluctant to give it.

"...no, not really," he eventually told her. "They can handle themselves. Wouldn't be surprised if they ended up finding each other too."

There was a slight tremble in his voice, imperceptible to all but those who knew the thief best. People who knew him well were very few and far between, but one happened to be beside him. Primrose noticed, though she didn't question him. Together with Alfyn, she'd known Therion the longest of any of her compatriots - and it was the lack of prying into each other's pasts that made them better friends. Something had happened to him, or some thought occurred to him, but he didn't want to tell her. If it was important, she trusted that he would. For now, she left it alone.

He couldn't tell her about the nightmare he'd had in the Pizza Tower, the one where he and the rest of their group of travelers lived an easy life before being brutally slaughtered. It felt too vivid, too much like a terrible omen to dismiss it entirely. Of course he was worried about the others after seeing that, but... right now, he couldn't say anything about it. Didn't even want to acknowledge it.

So he changed the subject.

"What happened to your dagger anyway?"

Having anticipated the topic change, Primrose didn't miss a beat. She pulled the weapon out, unsheathing it and letting her fingers roam over the inscription. Faith Shall Be Your Shield. She smiled grimly. "I still have it. I'll save it for... special occasions."

At that moment they head Kamek's voice filtering through the linkpearls, informing them of a great number of things they'd found back on the first floor. The keys were most important they thought, both the ones they'd found and the ones they didn't. After a brief discussion with each other, the Orsterrans would be splitting up from there. They both responded to the wizard.

"I'll take a key, Kamek."

"I'll come back up and see if I can crack the safe."

Primrose relayed her location, settling in a less populated area of this layer while she awaited the toady to bring her a key. She listened as closely as she could to try and catch any sign of Ms. Fortune's friend Minette, but the only thing she could hear was the ambient noise of the prison: metallic clinking, monstrous guards walking about, and wailing at times from prisoner and jailer alike. Voices were muddled if she even heard them at all. Once she thought she heard her name being whispered, but she dismissed it.

When Therion made it back to the first level, he accepted one of the keys from Kamek. These would most likely open the matching locks on the cell doors. From their design he could instantly tell that the bronze keys were a kind of skeleton key, so one should be able to open any or all of the cells if nothing else.

The safe was another thing entirely. It was a combination lock with no visible key hole, so his lock picks would do no good here. He would be a poor thief if he couldn't deal with something like this though. It had been a while since he'd broken into a safe of this kind, as where he came from anyone with the wealth to purchase a combination lock would usually opt to hire a mage to enchant a regular lock instead, but he'd give it a try.

He waved the Koopa Troop away and pressed his ear to the metal. He listened closely as he fiddled with the combination, straining to hear any clicking noise that was distinctly different. A pin falling into place. He brushed away a few paper moths with a flick of his tail.

"..."

He couldn't hear it. He tried for a while, letting the rest of the Seekers get into trouble while he remained in the safety of the highest floor, but he just couldn't crack this thing. Perhaps cat ears were not as conducive to this as human ears were?

Ten years ago I could break out of a jail and now I can't even open a cell or safe? Godsdamn. He lifted his head and let it thunk back down onto the safe, annoyed at his lack of successes so far in the prison.

Meanwhile, after receiving a rusty bronze key courtesy of one of Kamek's clones, Primrose set off deeper into the prison. She hadn't seen any other Seekers so far, but since the stairway to the third level was open one of them must have come through. She wasted no time in descending, especially when a distant crashing noise sounded from somewhere vaguely below. Suddenly Ganondorf's voice was in her ear, swiftly followed by Ms. Fortune's reply. So that noise had been the king of evil and the FBC director entering the Mercy Dreams? She supposed that she shouldn't be surprised. Half the time anything bombastic happened around the group, it was caused by them in the first place.

Though Primrose wasn't privy to it, the disturbance drew the Mindflayer that had accosted Ms. Fortune away from the stairway's door. The coast was clear for the dancer, but when she tried going through she found the door closed. She peered around until she found the mechanism that would open it, a flick of her hands later and the glass surrounding it shattered due to her magic. Primrose slipped onto the third layer and swiftly made her way deeper in, suspecting that it wouldn't be long before some monstrosity came to investigate.

She didn't have to remain stealthy for long. Whoever was descending after her seemed intent on clearing out every tentacled guard on his floor. Well if that's how they wanted to do things, it suited Primrose just fine...

She turned around, intending to head back and join the battle, when she heard it again. A little louder this time, a little clearer. "Primrose."

She stopped in place, looking over her shoulder. It sounded so familiar. A woman's voice, somewhere a little deeper in, and deeper down. The fourth floor? "Primrose."

Instead of going to help against the mindflayers she turned around again and made her way to the stairway connecting the third level with the one below. The mechanism on this side she destroyed with no hesitation, and as she went down she spotted the one containing the gears for the second gate before it got too dark. She lined up a spell and opened the way to the fourth layer.

"You're close by, aren't you...? I can just tell it's you." The voice sounded relieved, like Primrose's presence alone was enough to quell the prison's horrors. The voice sucked in a breath, quavering. "Prim...!"

The dancer's heart clenched. Only one person called her that, she hadn't allowed anyone else to. Especially not after the girl had died.

"Yusufa," she breathed.

She hadn't seen hide, hair, or scale of Ms. Fortune's friend Minette, but somehow Yusufa was here too? One friend found was a miracle in itself, but two was just suspicious. What were the odds? They couldn't have been very good. But that voice... it was unmistakably Yusufa. Primrose had lived with the girl for a couple years, endured her attempts at friendship, and held her in her arms as she lay dying. In the World of Light it was possible that here she was, alive again.

But it was just as likely that this was a trap.

Primrose kept that in mind as she jogged through the cell blocks, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. Why did she feel so apprehensive about this? If it was Yusufa, then the dancers would be reunited. She would protect the other woman until they could bring her somewhere safe. If it wasn't Yusufa and was instead some malicious trick, she'd kill the thing responsible.

"Yusufa, which cell are you in?" Primrose hissed. She could barely hear anything over the sound of her heartbeat. Pumping, pumping, pumping, like it was in her ear and not her chest. She felt strange all over too, goosebumps rising on her skin. This wasn't a natural response, it was more like something that was happening to her.

Primrose whirled around, finding an imposing figure standing at the end of the cell block staring her down. She'd been too hasty and hadn't seen it, and now bathed in its lamp light she could feel her vitality wasting away. The illuminator had been content to watch Primrose and slowly drain her max health, but now that it'd been spotted the lantern it held turned to a red glow and it began to stalk towards her. The jailer's uniform and the brand it carried reminded Primrose of the evil monastery on the mountain. It picked up speed, emitting a creepy giggle and raising the burning piece of iron menacingly.

"Don't you dare touch me," Primrose snarled.

When the brand was thrust forward it met the icy head of Primrose's lance. Steam erupted from the impact point and they struggled briefly, though when it became clear that Primrose had the edge in strength the illuminator backed off, ready to try again. All the while Primrose could feel her health drain. She wasn't being damaged, but she could tell she was getting weaker, more vulnerable. She couldn't let it continue.

The jailer rammed the brand toward her mid section. She could feel the heat of the iron just before she disappeared, teleporting behind the masked assailant and slashing it with the ice lance. Cool blue flame mixed with her dark magic, ravaging the jailer. It stumbled, completely silent in its pain, and struggled to turn around to face Primrose. The dancer did not let it, gripping the polearm tight and stabbing it in the back. She twisted the weapon, carving a piece out of the illuminator as she retracted the lance. It fell forward, cracking its headpiece on the ground. It flipped itself over and brandished its lantern, holding the glowing red light up. Before it could raise its own weapon again, Primrose swiped the lance in a horizontal arc, shattering the lantern and striking the illuminator across the face.

"Hyah! She finished it off by piercing its abdomen. She kicked the brand away while the illuminator was pinned in place, squirming slowly until it began to dissolve. She picked up the jailer's spirit while catching her breath. She still felt... fragile.

"Prim? Are you still there? Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." On edge, and with low enough health that any heavy hit might be lethal to her, but physically fine. "Where are you, Yusufa?"

"Right down here!"

Primrose found the cell that Yusufa's voice was coming from, but she couldn't see inside of it. Behind the iron door she couldn't feel if her friend was really there or not. She jammed the bronze key into the silver lock, the only one that looked functional, but it didn't fit. She tried the bronze lock underneath it, but found the lock too rusted to work no matter how hard she tried to force it. Primrose bit her lip, and though she hadn't so much as breathed Yusufa seemed to feel her disappointment.

"No good? Well, it's okay... I've been trying to find my own way out of here. A key would just be the easy way." It sounded like she was trying to be strong, and if that didn't just pull on Primrose's heart strings. "I don't even remember how I got here! But just hearing your voice gives me motivation. I'll... think of something else! But, if you could come back again and check on me...? Hehe..."

"I'll be back with a way out for you," Primrose said. Though it would be best to come back after making the area safer, and maybe even defeating the boss of the prison - her brush with the illuminator told her that. Assuming, of course, that it was really Yusufa in that cell.

She walked away after hearing Yusufa's noise of pleasant surprise. While keeping an eye out for any more of the masked jailers, Primrose found a lonely spot to stop and collect her thoughts. As she did so, she reached out to the other Seekers.

"I've made it to the fourth layer," she spoke into the linkpearl. "I'll try and open the way to the fifth. So far I haven't seen anything that looks like a dream catcher or a warden. But..." The magic device quieted for a moment. "...I found someone that I know, too. I don't know what to make of it. Is it too much of a coincidence?"

Maybe they should regroup and make an actual plan of attack? Systematically clear out the floors, scour every room for the keys that would open their friends' cell doors. They could talk out the likelihood that Minette, Yusufa, and any other friend that happened to be here were hallucinations or something even more sinister too. She suggested it to the others before cutting the communication, waiting on their response and preparing to slink deeper into the area toward where she thought the fifth floor connector would be.

World of Light

Word Count: 845 (+2 exp)
Level: 5 - Total EXP: 162/50
Location: Dystopiascape - Midgar, Suoh

The next course of action was decided. Naturally, Pit chose to go with those headed for Arahabaki. He'd decided as much immediately after talking with Luka. So long as they didn't get into too much trouble on the way there, the short break from battle would have Pit fighting fit again in no time. Plus the provisions Midna provided would help a lot.

When it was time to split up again, the angel waved the other two groups off. "Good luck!" he told Lili and Raz, hoping they'd find Lili's father safe and sound. Then Pit was off himself, along with Luka's group headed toward Midgar's heart.

The Shinra Building. Of course Pit had seen it before, it was impossible not to. It loomed over the city, visible from the highway the Seekers had partially rode in on from Gutsford and even the wilderness where they'd fought off the machine army. Seeing it this close, Pit pressed his face to the car window and strained to get a glimpse of the top of it. He couldn't, even after exiting the vehicle and going the rest of the way on foot.

The building's base - or rather, the huge high-tech wall that surrounded the building's base - was crawling with soldiers of all kinds. Pit spotted at least three or four different factions, and the sight of the sectopods made his eyes widen. They had to get through all of this! Fighting off all of these people... it might be possible, but it really seemed like a bad idea. Since they had to get through the gate, they'd have to go with another strategy. The group quickly came to the consensus that sneaking around the defense force seemed the most practical.

Luka pointed out some specific people among those in front of the gate, and though most were just as unfamiliar to Pit as almost everything else in Suoh, he squinted at them and tried to commit their faces to memory. The weirdly shaped man he wouldn't forget anytime soon, at least.

"He must be one of the people in on- everything?" Pit said. It was possible that most of Psych-OSF's leaders were, even the Septentrions they'd just fought.

Since the small crew of heroes couldn't well sit and wait much longer lest they lose any opening they had to get past the gate, they had to begin to move out, plotting their own courses to try and slip through undetected.

I'm not Snake, but I can do this! Pit thought to himself.

The actual fact of the matter was that stealth was not Pit's strong suit. However given the circumstances on both sides - the guard personnel weakened and distracted, and the Seekers motivated to get through but with little other options - he thought he could pull it off. He just had to... actually think about how to do it. Maybe he could cling to the underside of a truck? That was probably something a tactical espionage expert would do. Maybe single out a lone guard, beat him up and take his clothes? No, that's more trouble than it's worth. Hmm...

The simplest option was probably the best. Despite his lack of flight, with his wings Pit could scale the gate itself - or at least get up to one of the damaged parts and get through the same way something else had, while the repairmen were working in a different area. Yeah, that could work!

Since Midna had gone on ahead thanks to her shadow powers, Pit gave the remaining people a quick salute before they went their own ways, only a little jealous of the teleportation option. To give himself a little boost in confidence, Pit imagined his goddess' voice. Okay Pit. Commence sneaking mission... now!

Avoiding the drones and cameras was simple enough because of their spotlights. Stay out of that and he'd be out of sight to them. The guards themselves were tougher to avoid, what with so many of them and wider fields of view. Carefully, and with a patience that the angel rarely displayed, he snuck over to a sparser area. Once close enough to the gate it was time to go up. His wings were not like those of an owl, they couldn't cut completely soundlessly through the air. Neither were they very loud in the first place though, not when Pit wasn't working them hard, and it was doubtful that anyone would hear his wing beats over the sounds of shouted orders and machinery.

Sneaking around guards like this had a completely different vibe from hiding from a horrible monster; it was kind of exciting. Of course, being guided by Midna as she gave signals for which paths were more clear made things easier. He continued heading up in the damaged, darker area of the gate, searching for the crack in the wall or the pried open vent that would lead him through - lest he have to go all the way over the top of it, doing his utmost to avoid detection and regroup with his friends on the other side.

dear traveller...

Welcome to the site!

World of Light

^{____________________________________________________}
Level: 8 - Total EXP: 256/80 ------ Level: 7 - Total EXP: 131/70
𝙱𝙿 ●●●●● ---------------------------- 𝙱𝙿 ●●●●●
Word Count: 1369 (+3 exp)
Location: The Under

The Travelers could deal with a lot of things that came their way, and had adapted surprisingly well to all kinds of foreign enemies and technologies. The bombs that the Caretaker produced, however, they were wholly unprepared for. Though warned about what would happen, the fact that the bombs were not launched from the platform the Caretaker but literally teleported to 'drop' on them was something neither Primrose nor Therion could counter. Both of them had to reply on their speed to try and dodge the worst of the explosions.

It was for that reason that Therion took on his beast form after suffering the fringe of a phase bomb going off. He hoped that literal cat-like reflexes would help him get out of the way more easily. For the most part it worked, which meant Therion didn't have to look out only for himself. He veered toward the Data Vault, where he spotted Tingyun laying. She was practically a sitting duck like that, so he grabbed her with his jaws and flipped her onto his back before setting off, dashing away from any explosions.

It was with great relief that the bombing came to an end. The Caretaker's final phase was heralded by Nadia's own explosive blast of water. Yet more machines poured into the room... and more, and more, and more. It was so much more than the earlier reinforcements, but as dicey as things were getting for Primrose and her dwindling mana, she'd rather face this than another round of bombs. A spider-legged robot turned it's gun on her, until she turned it away by snapping the whip of her Devout Beads around it and yanking it hard enough to swivel the weapon. She stabbed at the Hot Rod with her lance until it crumpled, all the while more machines were attacking. It was at that point that one of the Seekers' newer recruits, the knight Artorias, stepped in to help her.

His assistance was unexpected, and his gruff voice made his warning come off almost condescending, but luckily Artorias saved himself a woman's scorn with his follow up.

"You've got that right," she said with a wink, twirling her Ice Lance and using it to completely skewer a Drillscrew robot as it burrowed up from the ground nearby. Raising one arm she summoned another boulder, smashing it pieces and plugging up the hole underneath it.

When the dirt wall exploded and revealed Kanna joining the fray, Primrose was taken aback. Now they had to worry about the random effects again too?

Her fellow Traveler felt much the same, though he wasn't nearby. The mighty roar he'd just let out while still in his beast form stopped a Smallfry from attacking himself and Tingyun, but then it turned into a Mrrowr? at Kanna's sudden appearance. In quick succession he dropped Tingyun off from his back, leapt up to disable the humanoid robot with the specially made blade fitting his beast form, then shifted back into his human form in order to deal with whatever crazy thing was about to happen to them.

The gold veins forming on the cavern walls, glittering on the edge of the firefight, was enough of a distraction that he was hit with the first of many power-ups that fell from the ceiling. For the love of- he started to curse inwardly, wondering what kind of change he'd go through, but surprisingly he only felt one familiar thing.

Both his mana and his BP were at maximum, he could feel it. He poured three boosts into the next attack with his short sword, striking with four times more power than normal straight through one of the robots, and it fell over while emitting a heap of sparks. Lo and behold when he touched another one of the power-ups, the only kind that was currently falling, his Battle Points went right back up to full.

He had to hand it to Kanna, this was better. And it would make things a whole lot easier.

He started to cross the cavern, heading towards his fellow Orsterran and this time intentionally picking up the fruits of Kanna's intervention. In a normal fight there was no way he'd be able to battle boost so much, so he took advantage of the phenomenon now. His sword arm was at its most deadly, now able to cleave through the metal chassis of their opposition. And though moments when his allies weren't in his line of sight were few and far between, whenever he had a clear shot he conjured Aeber's Reckoning to set a hail of daggers upon the area, ripping through machines and peppering the Caretaker as it spun. All the while Therion's body glowed with a whitish blue aura.

When he got closer to Primrose it was clear that she'd realized what the power-ups could do as well, given she was aglow with the same aura. Unlike Therion who was boosting his physical prowess, Primrose was putting her replenishing mana to use alongside her BP. Her spells were larger, stronger. They covered wide areas in wreathes of black flames, only to follow it up with explosive moonlight. She was wreaking so much havoc that it was almost a shame to ask her to stop.

"Primrose, a dance?" Therion said, figuring she could do it now while she had some extra defense in the form of Artorias. "Sealticge's."

Her eyes flickered over to him. She pivoted, twirling around one side of Artorias to but him between herself and the bulk of the robots. He began her dance with no questions asked, save one. "Have something in mind?"

"Yeah," was all he said in reply. Primrose performed the final step in Sealticge's Seduction, the glow of her body making the spectacle even more entrancing for any that happened to see it during the chaos. With a slight grin and nod of his head in thanks, the thief was off again.

With dance completed, Primrose used her lance to swipe at a Chopper that had gotten too close before rejoining the battle proper. She gingerly touched a hand wreathed in the flame of Warmth to Artoria's armor to shore up his health, reached up to snap a power-up as it fell from the ceiling, and then switched from her healing spell to an offensive one. She gestured for the knight to go on without her, indicating he take the fight to the Caretaker now that the Koopas had put it on ice. Once she was on her own again relatively speaking, she smirked and let loose on all the other summoned robots, watching their weak spots implode whenever she struck them. "Time to really put on a show."

Meanwhile, Therion enacted his plan. It was a simple, but also something that would nearly trivialize the swarm temporarily. Sealticge's Seduction would let him spread the effects of his skills to every enemy currently in the area - each of them, large or small, no matter how many there were. With Primrose's battle boost the dance's effect would last longer, much longer with three boosts. Now all Therion had to do was use his own battle boost, increasing the effect of his own skill, then grab another one of those power-ups and repeat until the Seduction wore off. His target was one of the Caretaker's long robotic arms, given it was stationary enough. Seemingly sensing his intent the limb swiveled around to take aim at him, but dodging its fire only delayed Therion for but a moment. He leapt onto it, not too far from it's base where if couldn't target him and it's thrashing wouldn't be too much of an issue. With his body blazing with his battle boost aura, he used Shackle Foe - heavily lowering it's attack power, along with every other robot in the cavern. A few more uses of that would catch any new arrivals and stack on top of the ones already debuffed, turning heavy hitting turrets into softballs and the weaker robos into harmless nuisances. The threat would be all but nullified for a little while, letting the whole team regroup and refocus. It was a scheme that was only possible thanks to the Wonder Effect.

New Arrival

Welcome to RPG! You'll fit in fine.

Expedition to Isekai

______________________________________________________________________

And every day after. Masato knew Maeda didn't mean to make it come off like that, like they were going to be stuck here indefinitely. Still the words churned his stomach - or maybe it was ever present hunger.

He glanced at the Todokawa sisters. He had no desire to start yet another fight, but he was wary of Ayana's psychotic break causing problems. And that was the other thing - they had several near deaths, one actual death, and a comatose student on top of Ayana's episode. Two weeks before rescue, that was what Maeda had told him the day before. Could this group really last that long? Just a group of middle schoolers, awakened powers aside?

...whether they could last for two weeks or not, Masato felt like it was his job to make sure that they did. He knew that he wasn't the most useful member of their group, that was painfully obvious when Asahi and Stewart could bring people back from the brink of death. Even without those two, he wasn't a genius engineer like Inaba and he could hardly cook without a detailed recipe in front of him. Even so, most of the students still looked to Masato for leadership just because of his position. When they'd first crashed he'd thought that he didn't want to take responsibility for everyone, but no one else would. No one else would want to make the hard decisions.

"...allow me to speak first," he announced to the gathered class, taking a few steps forward to command the floor. His voice was rough but loud.

"We need a plan for emergencies. Right now I think that's the most important thing. Since there's no telling when more monsters will come, or... if some other crazy thing will happen, we should decide now how we'll all act when the time comes." That damage from last night was done, but hopefully something like this would prevent further schisms from forming. And help prevent any further deaths like Higasa's. Masato continued, making his suggestion. His expression hardened as he spoke, discouraging any interruptions. "Last night Stewart and I took everyone that was 'unawakened' away while the rest of you stayed to hold back the monsters. It worked out - so for now, unless we can make some weapons for killing those things, let's do it again if we get attacked. We should choose another safe area, so if something happens here we can head there, and anyone that gets lost can regroup in one place."

Masato managed not to look Akito or Okumura's way as he said that last part. Before that he cut a telling look at Kogen that said, this goes for everyone. Then, he turned his gaze to Asahi. "I suggest you go with the unawakened next time if something happens, Asahi-kun."

And even though Stewart had the life-giving blood, he knew the other boy would be pissed if it was suggested that he stay out of the fight, so Masato didn't bother.

"If we can make it through tonight, we can start tomorrow in earnest. Finding a rendezvous spot, sourcing food, getting materials... and, leaving some kind of trail for a rescue squad to follow so they can find us more easily." He had no idea if the portal they went through would bring any newcomers to the bus crash site, but assuming they did then a signal to leave behind would be helpful.

With most of what he wanted to say out of the way, Masato took a step back, giving anyone else that wanted a chance to talk. He was too tired to add "if you want to argue, making sure it's not about something stupid." After a beat though he did pipe in with one last comment. It was hastily added but no less genuine for it. "Oh. And... good job on setting up this camp, everyone."

genevys

Welcome! There are Pokémon RPs aplenty here, and I've seen some Star Wars games pop up now and then. Hope you have fun here!

Akimitsu Academy Kendo Club [INVITE ONLY]

Koyama Nagomu

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"Just do it. Like always."

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Name:

Koyama Nagomu

Age:

16, Second Year

Appearance:

Neither Nagomu's looks nor frame are all that interesting. He is similar in height to his peers, standing at about the average 169cm (5'7"), and his physique is the same as any high school boy in sports.

He isn't particularly good or bad looking. His few facial scars, one on the edge of his chin and the other on his cheek bone on the same side, are barely noticeable unless one is looking closely. The rest of him is concealed beneath his school uniform, which is usually buttoned up in accordance with school rules.

His eyes, though an unexciting dark brown, are rather intense. The thing that stands out the most about Nagomu is his fluffy mop of bleached and dyed hair. It's platinum blonde so light it may as well be white, contrasting his dark eyebrows.

Personality:

There is a barrier between Nagomu and his peers, a wall he put up himself that ended up plastered with a rather rough reputation. Though he's actually glad to char about most topics, and even has a few pals to joke around with, he will rarely if ever talk about himself. His feelings and his family are also off limits. This makes it hard to be open with others already, but most students - especially in his grade - see him as some kind of violent troublemaker. Just because he usually looks really intense... or got into a scrap or two, or jumped in to defend someone, or said the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong person.

There are three major facets to Nagomu's personality that informs how others see him. The first is the way he speaks. Nagomu is not the type to mince words, he is straight forward and tells everything like it is, as he sees it. If one was to ask him something, they should expect an honest answer. That answer can sometimes lead to situations in which people feel embarrassed with his direct criticisms or praise. Or upset with him over an answer they didn't want to hear. If the situation calls for it, his way of being tactful is usually not to speak at all.

The second is the way he acts. Were his personality brighter, one might call him an ally of justice. He finds all kinds of liars, scammers, cheaters, and thugs irksome. He will always call out this kind of activity if he sees it, and will readily stand up to defend even complete strangers in need. Though he doesn't go looking for trouble, it often finds him in one way or another - and he is more than willing to defend himself, too.

The third is how he handles his feelings. That being he doesn't. He isn't a cold person who keeps an emotionless face on (its easy to tell if he's annoyed or in a good mood if anyone bothered to try and look), but more like his emotions are downplayed subconsciously. He bottles everything up, and eventually that bottle will break - an emotional time bomb per se. Nagomu's most genuine expressions of emotions come in the form of outbursts. They can be violent, as was the situation with his suspension last year, or they can be positive like a declaration of love. Once the "bomb" goes off, it takes a little time for Nagomu to wall off his feelings again.

Bio:

Nagomu's youth could easily be summed up by one word: unstable. It was easy to think that he was an introvert because of his lack of close friends and hobbies, but as a kid it was hard to get invested in thing when you never knew when you'd be wrenched away. His family moved around a lot, jumping from city to city and even province to province - and the reason for these relocations was always Nagomu's father, Koyama Kosuke.

"For new job opportunities," he'd say, but more often than not it was to escape his gambling debt. More than just a gambling addict, the Koyama patriarch was a drunk and lecher that made Nagomu's home life unpleasant to say the least. Unpleasant and incredibly chaotic. The household's atmosphere and finances swung back and forth as wildly as the man's mood. Some months they live off of konbini meals and dwindling savings, in others an incredible windfall saw a fully stocked fridge, paid bills, and new electronics and appliances to replace the old ones that had to be sold. Some days Nagomu and his mother were lavished with gifts, attention and platitudes, while others they walk on eggshells while Kosuke pretended he has no wife and probably couldn't care less if his son never came home again - might even prefer it that way. Needless to say, the older Nagomu got the less patience and respect he had for the man.

Nagomu's mother's role in all of this is as his best friend. Unlike her husband she always puts her son first. They are each other's confidants, and helping her out is one of the few reasons Nagomu would willingly miss a club practice. It's for her sake that Nagomu does his best not to antagonize his father and try to keep the household peaceful when possible. But building stress needed an outlet.

Kendo was that outlet... eventually. The Nagomu before kendo was a bit of a weird one, unwilling to open up to other kids about himself but trying to connect via slightly out of date media. And though his stern expression was intimidating when paired with his dyed hair, he didn't mind helping people out when asked. Delinquents sometimes picked fights with him, and he always obliged them too. It was surprisingly useful for letting off steam.

Kendo came into the picture during his third year of middle school. Though not one to usually involve himself in school clubs, Nagomu was roped into watching a demonstration of the school's small kendo club while they were campaigning for new members. When he ended up signing on, it wasn't entirely on a whim. The discipline and control on display appealed to him something fierce. He kept at it, and though he wasn't a prodigy or secret kendo genius by any means, the sport seemed to be a good fit for him. The consistent kata practice was calming, and the strict rules involved were grounding.

He applied to the nearby Akimitsu Academy specifically for their kendo programs, though with his grades always having been mediocre at best he wasn't exactly optimistic about his chances. Surprisingly though, he was accepted. Of course, his family up and moved before the start of his first year there, making for a fairly long commute by train, but Nagomu decided to make the trek every day instead of choosing another school.

Now he is returning to high school for his second year after having been suspended for the last few months of his first. The situation surrounding the suspension is the subject of a few rumors, but seeing as the other student involved transferred schools and Nagomu himself is tight-lipped about it, the truth remains unknown to all but a seldom few.

Kendo:

Nagomu isn't as experienced with kendo as many other members of the club. At just about one and a half years worth of practicing, he has yet to test for first dan. What he lacks in experience he makes up for in single-minded dedication to the sport. He is often at the dojo longer than his peers, and focuses intently on learning and perfecting each lesson. It may seem that Nagomu is very passionate about kendo due to this behavior, but that isn't really the truth. Sure he likes it well enough, and he's good at it, but he started kendo for a simple, but wholly different reason: to instill self-discipline in himself. For that purpose kendo was perfect, and being a martial art it let him physically de-stress at the same time.

Nagomu's kendo style is extremely conventional. His basics, kata, stances, and the like are some of the most solid in the whole club. Repetition after repetition has driven the "correct" way to move into his body, making his matches more like... math equations. Problems with one solution. "If my opponent moves like that, then I should move like this." This makes Nagomu a strong opponent against those of similar skill level, but weak to the improvisation that more experienced kendoka, or even just unconventional people, employ.

Because of his traditional, steadfast way of kendo he currently serves in the chuken role for the team. His stance is always the basic chudan. Despite his appearance, and perhaps his more basic instincts, he tends to favor a more defensive style. This was developed early on, as not to put too much undue stress on rented or borrowed equipment. Now, it just works. It's very hard to break his posture. Of course he is no slouch in fighting aggressively either, but his by-the-books moves make him a fairly easy read.

Other:

• He started bleaching his hair in middle school after hearing people say he was really starting to resemble his old man. Being compared to "that bum" his one of Nagomu's biggest pet peeves.
• His grades are middling, seeing periods where he consistently scores high or low. The last testing period they started slipping again.
• He is a pretty good cook! Not that he's cooked for any classmates before.
• Color code #FB9F1D

Greetings

Welcome to RPG!